Rounds
by BruceWaynesOtherSon
Summary: It's not that he can't sleep, it's that he didn't want to. It's the first time in a long time that all of his boys are sleeping over at the manor and well, he couldn't help but reminisce.


Rounds

As much as Bruce felt bad for even thinking it, he actually really liked going against metas in Gotham. Maybe not the going against the actual meta part, especially since this one's powers seemed to be super strength (and boy did his ribs hurt), but the whole part where he got to call in all reinforcements. Reinforcements being his sons, all of them.

It was just like any other regular patrol night until a SUV was thrown at him from below the streets as Batman and Robin were swinging from building to building. Metas aren't necessarily uncommon in Gotham, but they didn't tend to just casually throw mid-sized cars towards skyscrapers purely because the meta saw Batman and Robin.

Bruce thought he and Damian could've easily disabled the meta and after a few exchanges of punches and batarangs that didn't seem to be the case. Overtime, Bruce learned to call in his crime-fighting family in for help despite his pride and this was definitely one of those times.

Red Hood, Red Robin, and Nightwing all came to help Batman and Robin out quicker than even the Flash would've gotten to downtown Gotham. After what seemed like several hours of trying to find the metas weakness to no avail they decided to just attempt to tire him out. The sucky part was that, well the rest of the Batfamily were getting tired too.

Eventually they managed to disable the meta by tiring him out through the combined forces of Nightwing's escrima sticks, Red Robin's bo staff, Red Hood's guns (with rubber bullets of course), Robin's katana, and Batman's fists. Bruce couldn't have been any prouder of his sons when he put the inhibitor collar on the meta and shipped him off to Arkham.

"Well that was the workout for the century," Dick exclaimed with a smirk.

"Well you're not wrong for once Dickiebird," Jason stated in defeat.

"You should all spend the night in the manor," Bruce suggested.

"-tt- they have their own homes to soil in, father," Damian scowled.

"We all have injuries to tend to and debrief is to be held in the cave. You are all in no condition to go to your individual homes. Unless you want me to go back to the Cave and tell Alfred that I let the three of you go to your apartments after dealing with this meta all night?" Bruce couldn't help but give a slight smirk at the small threat, because in all seriousness, Alfred would kill him if he found out that he let his sons go to their separate homes after tonight's run in with the meta.

Bruce figured the threat worked because they all managed to get to the Cave, tend to each other's injuries that were all minor and clamber up to the manor to their individual rooms. It was almost 4 am when the soft sounds of Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian's snores engrossed the second floor.

It's not that he can't sleep, it's that he didn't want to. It's the first time in a long time that all of his boys are sleeping over at the manor and well, he couldn't help but reminisce. It was almost like something took over his body and before he knew it, Bruce was up and out of his bed despite how tired and sore he felt while entering the hallway of the second floor.

Bruce slowly wandered a few feet past his own door before stopping at the one closest to him. It was Dick's room and a flood of memories of the younger version of the now taller and larger gymnast entered Bruce's mind. As Bruce cautiously opened the door, he peered at the sleeping form on the bed. Dick was laying on his side a soft snore emitting from his eldest son.

Bruce glanced further into the room and at the rows of various figurines and trinkets that were neatly organized amongst the shelves of Dick's desk and his dresser. A poster of the Flying Graysons was pinned next to Dick's bed alongside several awards and medals Dick had earned throughout his academic tenure and his time on the gymnastics' team. Bruce couldn't help but remember how proud thirteen-year-old Dick would be after coming home to the manor and showing Bruce and Alfred his various awards and medals. It was hard to believe that Dick was a full-fledged adult in his twenties now but still as positive and charming as ever.

A smile crept up onto his face as he brushed the back of his hand against Dick's mop of black hair. Dick's body flinched at the movement, but he didn't wake up. Bruce then pressed his own lips onto his eldest son's forehead before slowly stepping out of Dick's room and into the dimly light hallway.

Bruce proceeded to follow the path outside of his master bedroom and before he knew it, he was outside of Jason's door. He almost immediately twisted the door knob but still skillfully slid into the dark room with a great amount of finesse. He was genuinely surprised to see Jason's sleeping form still in the room. Bruce watched his wayward son's chest rise and fall and smiled because his second son was still here, in the manor.

Their relationship has gotten ten times better recently. There were still clear differences between father and son and their arguments still continued but there was still an understanding between the two. Bruce became more and more of a father instead of the Batman towards Jason especially considering Jason didn't really have much of a good father figure growing up. He still gave Jason plenty of space because more arguments and squabbles tended to occur when Bruce would coddle him too much. The most important aspect however was that Jason understood that Bruce and the rest of the Batfamily was there for him. The manor was still a place he could consider home even when he was off galivanting with the Outlaws.

Jason's room didn't contain as much stuff as any of his other sons did due to the little mental breakdown he had when he first slept in the manor again after he… passed. The things Jason did keep were rows upon rows of hardcovered books on the various shelves that littered his room. A small backpack full of Jason's important and emergency belongings was settled on the office chair tucked into his desk. His Red Hood helmet was laid on the top of his dresser, despite Bruce's rule of no vigilante stuff outside of the cave. Bruce let it slide considering it was probably a safety and comfort mechanism for Jason. Bruce also had no doubt that Jason had at least one of his guns hidden in either nightstand that was placed on either side of the king-sized bed.

Bruce stared at the large form of his once malnourished scrawny son from the streets of Crime alley. Jason was definitely almost Bruce's own height and his muscle mass rivaled his own which made him cringe a little. His once very small Robin was now the dangerous outlaw the Red Hood. He reflected on the time he first met a very small Jason in Crime Alley as he was working on removing the fourth tire from the Batmobile and then the body he cradled in his hands after the Joker had taken his second son from him.

Bruce shuddered at the thought of everything his second eldest went through. His rough life has made him one of the strongest people he knew. As a ritual he caressed Jason's check with the back of his hand before pressing kiss to his wayward son's forehead. He knew the contact would have woken up Jason on a normal occasion. After his time on the streets of Gotham and his training as Robin Jason's reflexes would have woken him up at the slightest contact. But Bruce just watched the rise and fall of Jason's chest and listened to the quiet snore. Jason's face looked peaceful, almost as if he never went through half the trauma he actually went through in his life.

He slowly crept out of Jason's room quietly relishing in the fact that Jason still spent the night in the manor and somehow allowed him to watch him sleep for a brief moment. As Bruce stepped into the hallway and began walking across Jason's room to Tim's room, he could already hear the heavy roars of Tim's snoring from hallway.

Bruce braced himself as he turned the knob of the door that led into Tim's room. Although, Tim didn't live in the manor anymore a majority of his stuff was still kept in the manor. Kept being the key word because Tim's room was probably the messiest place Bruce has ever been in. Bruce grimaced as he glanced at the piles of dirty jeans, shirts, and even freaking underwear that littered his third son's floor. Stacks of various paperwork engrossed the office desk next to three empty mugs that were most likely once filed to the brim with coffee. Tim's laptop was on top of a stack of folders while plugged into the charger. Various pictures of surrounded the desk; a professionally taken picture of Tim with Janet and Jack Drake when he was a baby, another framed picture but this time of Tim with Connor Kent, Cassie Sandsmark, and Bart Allen taking a selfie while in civilian wear, and Bruce's personal favorite a framed professionally taken picture of Bruce sitting a chair in front of the manor's main living room fireplace with Dick and Jason standing behind him with their arms crossed over their chest. Tim was standing next to the chair Bruce sat in with his arm gripping the arm of the chair, and Damian kneeling on the floor right in front of the chair Bruce sat in. All of his sons in one picture and his favorite part was that none of them were even smiling. Bruce held back a chuckle because the picture heavily reminded him of the Kardashians for some odd reason.

He peered at the sleeping boy with is limbs sprawled out on the king-sized bed with the bed sheets and comforters dispersed all over. Tim rarely ever slept, and Bruce was well aware of that. His third son was probably the busiest out of all them and Bruce always wondered how Tim could do it all. After Bruce's whole "lost in time" debacle, Tim was the one who stepped up and took over Wayne Enterprises all the while searching for him and creating his own identity as Red Robin. Even now that Bruce was back Tim was still taking over large, WE projects while enrolled at Gotham University as a full time student, the leader of the Teen Titans, and Red Robin. So, when Tim actually did sleep, he slept very similarly to a wild grizzly bear during hibernation.

Bruce brushed the back of his hand against Tim's cheek and smiled. Tim had become so mature within the past few months and he couldn't help but think it was all his fault. His nineteen-year-old son had the maturity level and the stress level of a ninety-year-old man. He pressed a kiss to Tim's forehead and suppressed a chuckle as Tim let out a loud snore in response. He then slowly left Tim's room and made his way to the end of the second-floor hallway where Damian's room was.

As he turned the knob of his youngest son's door, he hesitated for a moment just in case it turned out Damian was not asleep. Bruce slowly and as quietly as possible entered anyways. His youngest son was fast asleep on his bed laying on his back with his arms on each respective side. His face still stuck in a scowl even when while in rem cycle sleep. Bruce couldn't help but find it humorous because Damian sleeping somewhat reminded him of a corpse.

Damian's room was also very minimally decorated and filled. The only thing that stood out in the room was a "decorative" set of three katanas on a shelve right above the king-sized bed. Damian's room was very clean and organized especially in comparison to Tim's room. A few books, his laptop, and a few paint brushes were laid across his desk. An unfinished drawing of a portrait of Titus laying in front of the main fireplace downstairs was still in the works laying on the desk.

His youngest son has gone through a lot lately and Bruce was still unsure how to handle some of Damian's outbursts of emotions. After dying and coming back, Damian had not changed much but Bruce attempted to make it clear that Damian knew that Bruce did love him just as much as his other sons. Damian still seemed to seek for more of Bruce's attention, but he had come a long way from trying to kill Tim every day and his relationship with Dick made Bruce happy. Damian was not perfect in any way shape or form, but he was really trying to assimilate to a life that was not a part of a cult and that was all Bruce really cared about.

As with all of his boys Bruce brushed the back of his hand very softly against Damian's cheek and pressed his lips against his youngest's temple. Bruce was pretty shocked Damian did wake up at Bruce's form of affection, but he also assumed that Damian was awake and was probably pretending to be asleep. He was okay with that though and discreetly crept out of his youngest son's room to slip back into his own room.

As he slowly entered his master bedroom with the sounds of various snores from his multitude of sons emitting from the hallway he thought of his family, his legacies. They were by no means a perfect family and Bruce knew he was by far the best father, but he couldn't help but think that moments like tonight were by far his favorite part of being a father. Completing rounds while his sons slept peacefully to remember that when they were all together everything was going to be okay.


End file.
